


Causality

by citrinevalley



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life But The AI Is Self-Aware
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, alcohol use, alternate universe - no resonance cascade, boy's night out, dart related injuries, sunkist origin story, they/them benny, workplace romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinevalley/pseuds/citrinevalley
Summary: Tommy, newly minted head of HR and hating it, wants one night away from work. He gets more than he bargained for when his drunken hook-up turns out to be Black Mesa's newest hire. What exactly is the correct protocol for catching feelings in the workplace?
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Causality

**Author's Note:**

> i thought of like two jokes that were funny and then wrote an entire fic to justify them. sometimes that's all a story has to be. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

Tommy had created an immortal dog. Not too far out in terms of what experiments typically rolled out of Black Mesa, but certainly his most sentimental creation yet. Months upon months of sneaking into the lab after hours, “borrowing” equipment, some tugging on the threads of time, and here she was: a beautiful, perfect golden retriever imbued with starlight who could never die. That’s one boyhood dream accomplished.

The neonatal weeks were still stressful. He shunned sleep and slacked on his actual work for the biology department to nurse the tiny golden pup, recording detailed observations on her growth and development. Benrey, who kept odd hours as it was, assisted him on these late nights occasionally. Once Tommy demonstrated the proper way to hold her and stressed how important it was to be gentle, he could catch up on sleep if Benrey was around. They even took notes in a surprisingly neat hand, short and square letters, as if they were printed by a computer.

A few more weeks, and she was old enough proper socialization. Tommy smuggled her through the halls of Black Mesa to a certain overworked mixologist’s department. Darnold’s expression went from exhausted to ecstatic once he saw Tommy. He abandoned his lab report the second he caught a glimpse of the puppy, scooping her up in his arms.

“What’s her name?” he asked. She licked the side of his face.

“Sunkist.”

Darnold looked like he might cry. “Sunkist, I gotta tell ya. You are the world’s most perfect dog.”

There was a lightness to their work with Sunkist around. Word was beginning to spread that Doctor Coolatta from biological research had engineered the perfect dog. She couldn’t often be brought around the lab for health and safety reasons, but several scientists stopped him in the halls to beg Tommy to bring her around anyway. He happily accepted their inquiries and embarrassedly rebuffed their praise.

It was the end of another long week. Tommy and Darnold, as per usual, rode the tram back to the dorms together. 

“We should grab a drink,” Darnold suggested. “Celebrate your latest scientific breakthrough.”

Every once in a while Darnold would get the urge to go out; see a concert, hear some standup, any excuse to use his security clearance to see the world beyond Black Mesa. He would always ask Tommy, even though he only accepted one out of every four such invitations. Crowds set off his anxiety, and tonight he didn’t think he could power through it for the sake of his friend. The attention from the other scientists already had his energy depleted.

Tommy shook his head. “No, thanks, but— but I appreciate you asking.”

“Can’t hurt!” Darnold said, the slight Southern lilt in his voice slipping out. “Maybe some celebratory Tekken instead?”

He smiled. “Sure! That sou-sounds fun!”

They chatted about fighting games, what Dr. Bubby had set on fire that week, their usual post-work tram chatter. They parted ways in the dorms. Tommy had to leave Sunkist behind today, and she no doubt needed to stretch her legs a bit before they went over to Darnold’s.

Before his door was all the way open, Sunkist was nudging her snout through the opening. Tommy scooped her up. It was difficult to say who was more excited to see who.

“Hi Sunkist! Hi sweet girl! I missed you soooo much—”

It wasn’t until he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat that Tommy realized he wasn’t alone. His father stood in the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back.

“Hello, Thomas.”

He stood straight and sharp like a needle. Tommy clutched Sunkist a little closer to his chest.

“Oh, um. Hi, Dad. You didn’t tell me you were co— um, stopping by.”

“I apologize for the...intrusion, but it’s a matter of urgency.”

Sunkist wiggled in Tommy’s grasp and he set her down. She bounded over to his father, sniffing at his impeccably shined shoes. He glanced up at Tommy, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah I was…” Tommy rubbed the back of his head. “I was _going_ to tell you about her.”

“Oh I’m well aware of your...extracurricular experiments. Unfortunately, I am obligated to my employers to report such incidents. As such…” He revealed a file from behind his back. Whether he was withholding it for dramatic emphasis or conjured it in that instance Tommy couldn’t say. “Your new assignment.”

Tommy had expected praise, maybe a promotion. He opened the file and quickly scanned the documents. The first paper was an official letter of transfer from biological research to… to… 

“Human Resources?”

He couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice. His father cleared his throat again.

“ _Temporarily_ reassigned. The previous head of HR is on medical leave. My employers need you out of the labs for the time being. A rather fortuitous coincidence, hm? You can keep your hands busy while they decide what to do with you.”

 _What to do with you_. That part scared Tommy more than anything. He didn’t reply. His father picked an imaginary piece of lint off his lapel. 

“You are well aware there is a process for project approval,” he continued. “You flouted the rules. Although you are my progeny, I have been instructed to not show favoritism. Nepotism in the workplace is... unsavory, hm?”

He smiled without warmth. His father’s eyes were as infinite and cold as deep space. “You are, however, permitted to keep the dog. She is quite...loveable.”

He held out a hand to Sunkist, which she cautiously sniffed. He crouched down to scratch her behind the ears. The paper was creasing in Tommy’s grip. Seeing his dad with Sunkist felt like watching a golden comet tumble towards a black hole. Tommy found his voice again.

“Why didn’t you— you couldn’t have put me in a department where my expert— experience would be valuable?”

“You are exceptionally well-read on the...rules and regulations of the facility. I thought perhaps you would enjoy it.”

“I enjoy _work_. The work this facility was m—meant for.”

“Well, Thomas, perhaps you could take it up with...HR, hm?”

He smiled at his joke. Tommy’s expression was frozen. His father stood, straightened his tie.

“You will begin tomorrow morning. There is a new hire who will need orientation. I’ve done you the courtesy of bringing you their file.”

He gestured toward the kitchen table. There were, in fact, several files and a copy of the employee handbook, which he had already memorized. Tommy had unlocked the secret to canine immortality and he was being demoted to a pencil pusher. His father frequently played God in his life, but each sudden yank of the leash always hurt.

“Do you require...anything else?”

 _What was the point of coming back into my life, showing me these powers, and getting me a job at a top secret research facility just to stick me in fucking_ Human Resources _?_ “No, sir.”

“Very well. I would wish you luck, but… I know you won’t need it.”

The air around him shimmered and he vanished. Tommy gave a half-hearted glance at the file. Ordinarily he wouldn’t mind getting a jump on work, but he couldn’t bring himself to open it. Sure, he was something of a bureaucratic wunderkind, but being good at something and being passionate about it were two different things. 

What he really wanted was a drink.

Tommy took Sunkist on a nice long walk in the desert dusk. The sudden reassignment only reaffirmed his love for her, and he spoiled her with extra treats when they returned. Sunkist, tired from her romp, was content to curl up on the couch and sleep. He gave her a peck on the forehead.

“He can stick me in—in sanitation for all I care,” he said. “I will never regret making you.”

She stretched and yawned and Tommy’s heart swelled with love. He gave her another kiss, refilled her water bowl, then started down the hallway toward Darnold’s room.

Tommy pounded on his door. Darnold cautiously opened up. Tommy could hear the Tekken main menu theme and see Darnold’s fight stick resting on the couch. 

“I changed my mind,” Tommy said. “Can we— did you still want that drink?” 

Darnold brightened. “Oh! Yes! Come in, let me get dressed.”

Tommy entered. Darnold gave him a once-over.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Tommy looked down at his outfit. He was still in his work clothes, just minus the lab coat. “Uh…”

Darnold shook his head. “Not on my watch.”

Darnold changed into black jeans and a silky purple shirt. Tommy opted for a high waisted pants/collared shirt combo that made him look like he stepped off the pages of a long outdated menswear catalogue from the 70s. Darnold was buzzing at the prospect of going out, and Tommy tried his best to match his enthusiasm.

They were almost at the tram when a familiar voice called out to them.

“Hey.”

Benrey, concealed by shadow, was watching them from atop a crate. Tommy supposed some people found Benrey’s intense stares alarming, but it was nice to see those dark blue eyes gleaming from underneath his helmet’s visor. Benrey kicked their legs like a little kid.

“What are you guys doing? Sneaking around in the dark like uh. Like a couple of suspicious fellas.”

“Hi, Benrey,” Tommy said. “Darnold and I were just leav— heading out for a drink.”

His relationship with Benrey was one where an entire conversation could be held without ever saying anything at all. Benrey could decipher the slightest knot in Tommy’s brow, the smallest shadow under his eyes. They cocked their head to the side: _You okay?_ A corner of Tommy’s lips upturned: _I will be._

Darnold, left adrift in the silence, gave Benrey a look. “Would you like to tag along?”

They pretended to debate the idea for a moment then hopped off the crate. “Sure. Gonna make sure you guys don’t get into any trouble.”

Tommy wasn’t sure if Benrey had ever ventured out of Black Mesa before, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask. If they were apprehensive, they didn’t show it. They removed their helmet, ran a hand through the dark hair matted to their head, and launched into a roast of Darnold’s pyro tactics from their last game of TF2 as the tram started towards the garage.

As they wound their way through the labyrinthine halls of Black Mesa, Tommy’s head was a jumble of thoughts. It was hard not to take the reassignment as a punishment, even if his father said it was “only temporary”. What did temporary mean to someone to whom time was malleable?

“Yo,” Benrey nudged him. “You still with us?”

He snapped out of his reverie. “Yeah, sorry. I’m here.”

“Everything okay, Tommy?” Darnold asks. “You don’t have to go out for my sake if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do, I do. Just got some...uh, disappointing news. It can wait until I have a drink in my hand.”

It was a long way from the tram to the garage to the gate, but at long last they were speeding down the I-25 in Darnold’s wood-paneled PT Cruiser. Darnold possessed a discerning taste when it came to drinks. A nowhere town in New Mexico wasn’t liable to have the chic cocktail bars of New York, so Darnold’s current haunt was a dive bar that blasted country western over crackled speakers and a halo of blue smoke clung to the ceiling. Apparently they also had excellent selection of local lagers, which was ostensibly his reason for going. He also told Tommy that they had a Galaga machine, and frankly that was good enough for him.

Tommy pressed his cheek to the window as Darnold drove, Benrey tapping their foot against the back of his seat incessantly. He was starting to regret this. Part of him wanted to tell Darnold to take him back to Black Mesa, or, even better, just teleport back to his room. But they had made it this far and exposing his powers in front of them would surely only invoke more reprimands from his father. Plus, once they pulled up to the bar, bathed in the red neon glow of a large sign that read simply “Silvio's”, a drink didn’t sound half bad.

It turned out they had more than just a Galaga cabinet. Two pinball machines, one slightly less ancient than the other, and a virtual poker machine made up the arcade corner. There was also a pool table and a dartboard opposite the bar. The walls were covered in various signs and stickers of a mostly extraterrestrial theme, as was often the case in New Mexico. The clientele wore denim and drank beer from murky mugs as they watched a sports game on one of several flatscreens. 

Darnold eagerly ushered them inside. “Just wait until you try this lager. Microbrewed from this old couple in El Paso. It’ll knock your socks off.”

Tommy opted for a Blue Hawaiian, but had a polite sip of Darnold’s coveted lager. Tommy enjoyed mixed drinks because they masked the taste of alcohol, but all the fruit juice and simple syrup in the world couldn’t drown out the bitter taste of bottom shelf rum. He told them about his reassignment, omitting his father’s involvement. 

“That’s ridiculous!” Darnold exclaimed. “All the shit Black Mesa is involved with and an immortal dog is too far?”

“It’s j— just a temporary reassignment,” Tommy said glumly.

“The cybernetics department can waste hundreds of thousands of dollars on that disastrous cybermutt project but you successfully imbue a dog with immortality and they cause a stink! Those rat bastards!” Darnold hit the table with his fist, making their glasses rattle.

“Yeah what the hell man,” Benrey said. They had declined a drink and instead ordered a glass of lemon slices which they ate, peel and all. The bartender had looked scared, but almost impressed. Benrey made eye contact with her as they spat the seeds into the ashtray on the table. 

“If they knew this was going on, why didn’t they stop you while she was still in the zygotic stage?” Darnold asked.

Tommy shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to see if I could pull it off.”

“They’re not going to… take Sunkist, are they?” Benrey asked.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“They better not,” they muttered darkly. 

Tommy knew where Benrey’s mind was at: test chambers, syringes, pointy metal instruments. “I won’t let that happen.”

Benrey gave him a grateful look and chomped down on another lemon. Darnold clapped a hand onto Tommy’s shoulder.

“I’m just glad they didn’t fire you. Black Mesa would be a lot lonelier without you in it.”

“Thanks, Darnold.” He was right; Tommy could have just as easily been fired. It didn’t heal his damaged pride, but he was grateful to still have his friends.

“Hey, the pool table’s open.You ever played pool before, Benrey?” Darnold asked.

“Like...swimming?”

“Here, let us show ya.”

Like with most games, what Benrey lacked in skill they made up for tenfold in competitiveness. It felt good to be away from the sterile halls of Black Mesa, cracking jokes with his friends while they played. Benrey kept insisting they had won because they hit one of the balls with such force that it careened into a neighboring table. Tommy laughed through Darnold and Benrey’s bickering about the rules, the Blue Hawaiian beginning to take effect. Tommy started racking up the balls for their next game.

Darnold sidled up to Tommy. “Don’t look now, but that guy’s been staring at you ever since we got here.”

Tommy whipped his head around.

“I said _don’t_ look!” Darnold hissed.

Too late. The man in question was sitting at the bar, staring pointedly at the TV. He had a sturdy build, muscles underneath a layer of fat, like a former star athlete turned little league coach. His long curly hair was caught up in a loose ponytail, glasses perched on his nose. He sported a short, well-maintained beard. Handsome. Cute, even.

“He’s your type.”

“I do like big guys,” Tommy mused.

Darnold playfully elbowed him in the ribs. “You should talk to him.”

He sighed. “I don’t know...”

“Aw come on, how often do you get the chance to talk to a guy who isn’t wearing a lab coat?”

“I just want to hang out with you and Benrey tonight. If he wants to say something, he’ll say it.” He went back to racking up the balls.

Tommy should have known better than to turn his back on Darnold because not a minute later, he heard his voice drifting over from the other side of the bar. Of course. In Darnold’s mind, strangers were just friends he hadn’t made yet. 

“Sorry to bother you, but we wanted to play some 2v2 and was wondering if you wanted to hop in! Tommy could use the help.” He threw a wink back at Tommy. Tommy’s face erupted in flames.

The man chuckled. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll give it a shot.”

He stood, and Darnold shook his hand. “Darnold.”

“Gordon.”

 _He has a nice smile_ , Tommy thought as Gordon approached the table. “Tommy, right?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah that’s...that’s me.”

Gordon grabbed a cue from the wall. “Fair warning, I’m pretty rusty.”

“That’s okay, I’m, I just play for fun.”

“All right, let’s get this show on the road,” Darnold said. “Call it.”

“Stripes,” Tommy and Gordon said at the same time.

Gordon made a surprisingly good partner. He matched Benrey’s competitiveness, egging them on with each shot. Gordon had no self-consciousness about being a stranger in the group, and as the game wore on it felt like they had all been friends much longer than they had. He was just one of those effervescent people who could talk to anyone anytime about anything. It was a trait that Tommy envied.

It was his turn again. If Tommy could sink this, and if Gordon got the eight, they would win. 

“Don’t fuck it up!” Benrey jeered. “Chicken hat Tommy!”

Tommy turned the cue in his hand as he studied the table. The cue ball was in a terrible spot. At best he could nudge it more into the center, but that would just be setting up for Darnold and Benrey’s win. At worst, he would tip the eight ball into the pocket, where it was precariously perched on the edge.

He sighed. “We might— might have to accept defeat here, Gordon. I can’t see a way out of this.”

“Hm…” Gordon studied the layout of the table. Tommy was poised with his cue, absentmindedly pushing it in and out of the gap between his fingers.

“Here, can I show you?”

Tommy nodded.

“Just need enough force at the right angle.”

Gordon rested his hand on top of Tommy’s. The inside of his stomach felt light and fizzy like a freshly cracked can of soda. Gordon gently nudged Tommy’s hand and made a minute adjustment to the cue.

“Try that.”

His breath was so close to his ear. The hairs on the nap of Tommy’s neck stood on end. He pulled the cue back and…

With a satisfying _click-thunk_ , the ball ricocheted off the edge and had just enough force to knock Benrey and Darnold’s seven into the pocket.

“Aw what!” Darnold exclaimed.

“Trick shots! Fuckin’ no-scoped!” Benrey cackled.

“Who needs a chicken hat now?” Gordon said.

“Still you.”

The game wound down, with Tommy and Gordon declared the winners. Benrey wandered off to the arcade corner after making some comment about playing a real game. Darnold replaced the cues back on their stands.

“You coming?” he asked Tommy, already knowing the answer.

“I’ll catch up in a bit, I’m, I’m going to get another drink.”

“You got it! Again, pleasure to meet you, Gordon.”

“Likewise!” he said.

And just like that they were alone. Gordon cleared his throat. 

“Buy you a drink?”

“Oh, um, sure! I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

They took a seat at the bar. Tommy was a little surprised when Gordon turned around and ordered two martinis, extra dirty. 

“Your friend really did me a favor,” Gordon said, clinking their glasses together. “I was having trouble coming up with a good line.”

Tommy snorted. “Come on. Give me your best one.”

“Oh God, all right.”

Gordon took a second to compose himself. He put on his best smolder.

“Excuse me, sir. I seem to have lost my number. Could I...borrow yours?”

Tommy choked on his drink in a fit of laughter.. 

“See!” Gordon said. “No way you’d be talking to me now if I used that line.”

“I never said that.”

“What’s your best then?”

“My best pickup line?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm… I guess I have one that I’ve used before.”

“Lay it on me.”

Tommy gave him a deadpan stare. “Is your refrigerator running?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I’m going to suck your dick.”

Gordon howled with laughter at that. It made Tommy feel warm inside.

“That’s terrible!” Gordon gasped between laughter.

“But it always works.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm.” Tommy took a sip of his drink. Better change the subject before his tipsy mind said something he regretted. “Are you, are you from around here?”

“I just moved here. Or, I’m in the process of moving here.”

“What brings you out to the middle of nowhere?”

Gordon shrugged. “Needed a change of pace.”

Tommy could see that. The desert had a certain charm. Less noise, no light pollution. A variety of fascinating flora and fauna. Organisms finding ways to flourish even amidst grueling conditions.

“What do you do?” Gordon asked.

“I’m…”

His NDA forbade him from mentioning Black Mesa specifically, but even at a basic level Tommy didn’t know how to answer. HR was supposed to be temporary. He was still a scientist, god damn it, no matter what the corporate bureaucracy said. But saying he was a scientist would invite more scrutiny, and he really didn’t want to talk about work right now.

He was taking a long time to answer, but Gordon didn’t seem to mind. He wasn’t rushing him, wasn’t pressuring him for answers, just genuinely being a good listener. Tommy appreciated that.

“I’m between jobs right now,” was what he decided to say.

“Me too,” Gordon replied. “Sort of in post-grad limbo right now.”

Tommy balked. “College?”

“Just got my phD.”

“...How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

Tommy squinted. The gray at his temples, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled… Tommy got lost staring at Gordon’s face for a moment before realizing he was supposed to answer. “I don’t know, maybe… 40?”

Gordon clutched his heart. “Oh my fucking god.” 

“How old are you?!”

“I’m twenty seven!”

“I’m so sorry! I just didn’t expect you to be younger than me.”

“How old are _you_?”

“Thirty six.”

“Well you don’t look a day over thirty five.”

The conversation flowed easily. Gordon was animated, passionate. Sometimes when Tommy talked for too long about something technical or niche, the other person would start to glance around the room, start tuning him out. Not Gordon. For someone who had known Tommy for all of an hour, he was being entirely too kind.

Their drinks were long since drained. Gordon fished the olive out of his drink and pulled it off the skewer with his teeth. Their discussion on the existence of aliens (which Tommy tried to keep as surface level as possible) died down. Tommy was just watching Gordon. Gordon looked back at him.

“Your eyes are really pretty.”

Tommy looked away. A flush that had nothing to do with the alcohol crept up his neck. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Gordon smiled. His hand slipped over Tommy’s. “Hey, I wanted to ask you—”

“Oh my god it’s in his head!”

Every pair of eyes in the bar snapped over to Darnold and Benrey. Benrey was standing in front of the dartboard, a serene smile on their lips, with a dart stuck in their temple at a jaunty angle. Darnold looked like he was going to puke.

“Jesus, Benrey, take it out!” he pleaded. 

“Wha?”

“Aw shit,” Tommy muttered. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

“Of course, do you need any—”

But Tommy was already crossing the room toward his friends. Onlookers nervously laughed or cut their eyes as Darnold cowered in front of Benrey. 

“Tommy can you...take care of them please?” Darnold was pointedly looking away. Tommy knew that if Darnold caught even one look at the bead of blood rolling down Benrey’s face he would faint. The last thing he needed tonight was two incapacitated friends.

“Come on, Ben,” he said, leading Benrey into the restroom.

The restroom was a dismal single-occupant hovel. Without missing a beat, Benrey, ever committed to sitting where they shouldn’t, hopped up onto the baby changing station. 

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Tommy asked, carefully pulling out the dart.

“Huh? No. Yeah.”

Tommy gently blotted the blood away with a paper towel. 

“You’ve been talking to that guy all night, kinda hurt my feelings, man.”

He paused, then went back to cleaning up the wound. “Not all night…”

“It’s weird though,” Benrey continued as if Tommy hadn’t said anything. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“Really? Where?”

They stared off into space. After a moment, they shrugged. “Dunno. I was doing background checks. Saw his face on the computer. Maybe he’s a criminal.”

Tommy chuckled. “Are you drunk?”

“No. I’m uh, on the job, remember? Makin’ sure you and Darnold don’t fuck up?” They smacked their lips. “Can you order me a glass of milk though?”

By the time they returned to the bar, Gordon was gone. _Of course_ , Tommy thought. He supposed it was too much to ask for, meeting a handsome, kind stranger in a place like this. Alcohol was a depressant, and it was beginning to settle over him like a cloud. 

He ordered a glass of milk for Benrey and a bourbon, neat, for himself. It was what his father drank, not that he had to drink at all; it was more of a prop used at company parties. He thought he would acquire the taste for it eventually, but if he hadn’t yet he didn’t think he ever would. Still, he finished the glass. The bar was stuffy and loud and Tommy wasn’t having fun anymore. He hadn’t realized he was getting his hopes up as he talked to Gordon. Hopes for… he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Benrey began a one-sided conversation with the bewildered bartender about Playstation Plus. Tommy finished his drink and drifted over to the arcade. He was entirely too drunk to be playing pinball, but he needed something to keep his fidgety fingers busy. The machine was a cacophony of light and sound, every movement of the ball setting off another neon flash and sci-fi sound effect. The colors blurred in his vision, the steady _ka-thunk_ of the flippers his only tether to reality.

He felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He gave the barest glance over his shoulder as he pulled back the plunger and began round 2. It was Gordon, watching him from a few feet back. 

“You’re staring at me.”

“I was just, uh...admiring your technique.”

Tommy was feeling drunk enough to respond with, “Want a closer look?”

Gordon approached, watching the pinball zip across the board. Tommy looked over at him when he could afford to. That strange hopeful feeling was beginning to bloom in his chest again.

The ball sunk between the flippers while he wasn’t paying attention. “Shit!”

Gordon laughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to break your concentration.”

“I thought you— you left earlier.”

“I just stepped out while you were in the restroom. Figured I’d take the time to call my son, tell him goodnight.”

Tommy felt the air get sucked out of his lungs. “You’re married?” He glanced down at the man’s hand: bare.

“No, not anymore,” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t be hitting on you if I was.”

He continued speaking while Tommy mulled that over in his drunken haze. “That’s part of the reason why I came out here. I needed a new start, you know? It’s not like I can go back to Seattle. The pay will really help support him, but I can already tell being this far away from Josh will be hard…”

He shook his head. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear my life story.”

“No, it’s all right. I like hearing you talk.” Somewhere in his mind Tommy dimly registered that Gordon hadn’t mentioned a job before. But he didn’t want to talk about work. He just wanted to fall into Gordon’s pretty green eyes.

Gordon nodded at the machine. “Still got one more game, champ.”

“Do you want to play?”

“Maybe if you gave me some pointers.”

Gordon took the helm. Tommy let his fingers drift on top of Gordon’s, perched on the bumpers on either side of the machine. The lightshow of the pinball machine reflected back in his glasses.

“How do you keep up with all this?” Gordon asked.

“Time moves faster for me.”

Gordon’s smile was intoxicating. The ball sank into the gutter and the machine sang a melancholy melody. A digitized voice pleaded _don’t give up, try again!_ Their faces were too close together, but neither seemed to mind.

“Look,” Gordon cleared his throat. “Would you...maybe want to step out? For a minute?” He ran a finger over Tommy’s knuckles to emphasize the point.

Tommy threw a quick glance around the room. Benrey was chatting up a man who had “MUSH” and “ROOM” inexplicably tattooed across his knuckles. Darnold was interrogating the bartender about the process of fermentation.

“Sure.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to...pressure, or anything like that…”

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Gordon’s ear. “Very sure.”

“Cool…”

“Cool.”

The backseat of Gordon’s car was cramped with boxes. His entire life was packed into the car so they sat with their legs tangled together. If Tommy straightened his back, the top of his head would brush the ceiling. Gordon cupped Tommy’s cheek. It felt so intimate yet Gordon did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Tommy thought his face would catch on fire. They stared at each other, inches apart, drunkenly gazing into each other’s bleary eyes. Tommy started laughing.

“What?” Gordon asked, laughing despite himself.

“I don’t— I don’t know. You’re just funny.”

They kissed, giggling like teenagers.

***

Tommy was heading back inside the bar when he bumped into Darnold and Benrey on their way out. They had an arm around Darnold’s waist. Darnold was still leaning into the doorway, shouting over his shoulder, “Remember, aerate the wort for slightly longer next time! I really think it’ll make a difference!”

“Are we going black to Back Mesa?” Tommy slurred.

“Yeeeup,” Benrey replied. “Knew this was gonna happen. Good thing friend Benrey was here.”

Tommy mussed Benrey’s hair. “I say that every day.”

Darnold joined Tommy in the back seat. He grumbled to himself as he clumsily buckled his seatbelt. “Secondary fermentation...with a culture _that_ weak?”

Tommy didn’t have the wherewithal to protest when Benrey climbed into the driver’s seat. Did they even have a license? Did Benrey know how to operate a motor vehicle? He might have cared more if he were sober, but he trusted Benrey enough to get them home in one piece. He rolled down the window and let the cool air wash against his face.

***

The rest of the night was a bit hazy from there. Tommy had faint memories of Benrey helping him into bed, taking off his shoes. He would have to apologize and thank them later. Tommy felt guilty for getting caught up with some hot guy instead of making sure his friend was having a good time.

When he woke up the next morning, his mouth tasted like gin and sex. A headache knocked behind his left eye. He sat up then immediately had to lie back down as vertigo swelled. Brushing his teeth could wait. All he wanted to do was lay in bed with Sunkist and sleep for a thousand years. Let the remnants of a good night spin themselves into pleasant dreams. It was certainly more excitement than Tommy usually saw. A short reprieve from the reality that awaited him.

Hungover and running late, he speedran his morning routine. Shower, shave, Sunkist, then it was off to the trams. By habit, he headed toward the biology department, but eventually made his way to his new office. 

He finally opened the folder his father had given him days ago. Copies of intake paperwork for the new hire to fill out. He would also have to give them a copy of the employee handbook. Insurance documents. Liability waivers. 

And at the very back, a resume: the new hire’s name was Gordon Freeman.

Tommy froze, a can of Sprite halfway raised to his lips. Gordon. It had to be a coincidence. No sooner than he had the thought did he find evidence to the contrary. Gordon Freeman was a recent MIT graduate. A phD in theoretical physics. Tommy wanted to kick himself. It should have been obvious; what kind of man with a doctorate just randomly decides to pack up and move to a nowhere town in New Mexico? 

There was a knock at the door. He stood, mind racing, trying to gather the papers back into a neat pile.

“Come, come in!”

The door opened and—-

Oh no. Oh god no.

Gordon appeared to be having the same exact thought. He glanced at the plaque by the door. It felt strange to see Gordon so buttoned up, just like every other scientist. His hair was neatly pulled back, lapels starched stiff. The lab coat still had wrinkles from where it had been folded.

“Am I in the right room?” he asked. “Is this HR?”

“Yes.”

Tommy stuck out his hand like an automaton. When in doubt, follow procedure. “I’m Tommy. Tommy Coolatta.”

“Gordon...Freeman.” They shook hands. “Did you say Coolatta? Like, from Dunkin’ Donuts?”

Tommy tried not to think about the things that hand was doing last night. “Yeah, they— they let me pick my last name.” His voice was too loud. _Pull it together._

“I thought I was meeting with someone named Avery,” Gordon said.

“Th-they’re on medical leave. I’m covering until they’re back.”

He handed Gordon the stack of paperwork. “Um, p-please fill these out. Then I’ll show you— uh, give you the tour.”

Tommy waited in agonizing silence as Gordon filled out the intake paperwork. The only sounds were the general droning buzz of the Black Mesa facility itself and the scratching of pen against paper. Tommy bounced his leg up and down. It was probably annoying to Gordon but oh well. Once or twice Gordon glanced up at him, but Tommy was staring firmly at the employee handbook open on his desk. Not reading, just staring.

At least on the way to Anomalous Materials Tommy could fill the awkward silence by infodumping about the rules and regulations of the facility, which tram line to take, the Black Mesa athletics program. Gordon was giving him a strange look; maybe he was talking too much.

Luckily in the locker room they ran into Dr. Coomer. He was shutting his locker, straightening his tie.

“Ah, hello Tommy! And you must be Dr. Freeman, yes?”

“You’ll be working closely with— with Dr. Coomer,” Tommy said. “He’s one of the department supervisors.”

“Howdy,” Gordon said, shaking his hand. He made a pained expression as Coomer grabbed his hand. “Jeez, that’s quite the handshake.”

“It’s my bionic grip!” he said with a grin. “Ah, Tommy, be sure to help Dr. Freeman get suited up before showing him to the test chamber. I’ll walk you through the finer points over the intercom.”

“Sounds good,” Gordon said. 

Tommy demonstrated how to activate the control panel for the HEV suits. Gordon stood on the platform as the machine whirred around him, assembling and locking in each part of the HEV suit piece by piece.

The HEV suits were bulky, cumbersome things, but Gordon carried it well. He looked like some sort of FPS protagonist. He even managed to pull off that horrendous shade of orange. 

Gordon gave a spin. “How do I look?”

“I think you look...very protected from radiation, Mr. Freeman.”

_Stupid sexy Gordon._

They parted ways outside the test chamber. 

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yes, Mr. Freeman?”

Gordon looked like he was about to say something, but suddenly became very interested in the finger joints on the HEV suit. “Thanks for showing me around.”

“Have a safe and productive day, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy wanted to kick himself as soon as he said it. Good lord, quoting the tram announcer was a new low.

He spent the rest of his morning going through his email inbox, eyes unfocused. Darnold poked his head into Tommy’s office around lunchtime, two sodas in hand. 

“How’s the new gig going?”

“You know the new research associate in AnMat?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Gordon. From the other night.”

“No way! I knew it had to be the same Gordon. Pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

Tommy groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Darnold handed him a soda and perched on the end of his desk. Tommy cracked the can open.

“Why is this happening to me?” 

“What? I thought you’d be excited. You seemed to really like that guy. You guys talked for a long time.”

“We didn’t just...talk.”

“What do you—” His eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh my.”

Tommy dragged his hands down his face. “I feel so stupid. I feel like, like I’m in college again.”

“Statistically speaking, this probably isn’t the first time something like this has happened in Black Mesa. You put a bunch of gay people in the middle of the desert and it’s bound to happen.”

“But I’m not...it’s out of character. I was drunk and saying st— dumb shit and he probably hates me.”

Darnold sipped his soda thoughtfully. “Maybe you should talk to him and see where his head’s at instead of ignoring it?”

“I’m not ignoring it, I’m… pretending it doesn’t exist!”

Darnold gave him a look. 

“I know, I know,” Tommy said. “I’ll try to— to talk to him soon.”

Contrary to Darnold’s advice, Tommy avoided Gordon all week. He stayed away from the breakroom and drank his lunch in his office. If he happened to spot Gordon walking down the same hallway as him, he would switch directions to avoid him. He came to his office once, a question about his insurance plan, and Tommy responded only with the minimum necessary information.

It had been a long week. The work itself wasn’t terrible; a bit mindless at times, and it gave him plenty of time to stew. At least since he was no longer in the lab Sunkist could keep him company while he fielded questions, concerns, and complaints from all across the facility.

Darnold and Benrey invited him to play fighting games with them, but Tommy declined. All he wanted to do was cuddle up with Sunkist and watch movies until he fell asleep. Which he was well on his way to accomplishing when a knock at the door snapped him out of his snoozing.

It was Gordon. He looked awkward, apologetic, and Tommy was beginning to regret giving him the cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Darnold told me your room number. I asked, so don’t get mad at him.”

“Of course not.”

He stood aside to let Gordon in. Sunkist bounded over to Gordon, jumping up at him. He grinned.

“Oh my God, you have a dog?!”

“Yeah, her name’s— that’s Sunkist.”

Gordon gave her a hearty scratch behind the ears, cooing to her in the babytalk everyone who encounters a small animal inevitably slips into. There was something uncanny about the way both Gordon and Sunkist exuded such sincere joy. Tommy smiled, for a moment, until Gordon stood, clearing his throat.

“Look, I know this is awkward, but we might as well address it if we’re going to be working together.”

Tommy took a deep breath. “You’re right, Mr. Freeman. I, I apologize for my behavior—”

“No, no, I mean, if anything I should be apologizing, because—”

“I don’t normally do this sort of thing—”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

“I wish I...huh?”

He stared at the ground as he finally admitted it. “You didn’t...make me uncomfortable. I had a really nice time.”

“Oh.”

“But if _I_ did anything that made you think—”

“No, I...had a good time too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then Gordon started laughing.

“This is so ridiculous, isn’t it? I would have told you at the bar, but I had just signed that NDA.”

“I understand, I signed it too. I don’t blame you or anything like that.”

“Then can I ask why you’ve been ignoring me?”

Tommy didn’t answer. 

“Look, Tommy, I wanted to talk to you about it, but you acted like you didn’t know me so.... I didn’t really know what to think. It seemed like you just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I was afraid you would. I don’t know, realize what a horrible mistake you made. Tell me I was stupid.”

Gordon put a hand on Tommy’s knee. “I don’t think you’re stupid at all.”

Tommy couldn’t look at him. His heart was pounding. “Hey,” Gordon continued. “I genuinely do like you. Maybe we did things a little out of order, but… I spent that whole drive from Cambridge to here terrified that I was about to fuck up my life all over again. And talking to you and being with you reminded me that there are still good, genuine people on this shit Earth.”

He thought he might cry. “I feel like every time I’m happy that means there’s something bad around the corner.”

“You’re allowed to be happy. We’re allowed to be happy.”

Gordon gently pressed a kiss to Tommy’s lips. Whether he was kissing Gordon in a drunken passion or on the verge of tears, Tommy still got the same fluttery feeling in his stomach. A feeling that made him want to know what it was like to kiss Gordon in any possible scenario, from sleepy morning smooches to businesslike pecks in the lab to something deeper that turned the fluttery feeling into a fire.

“So...how about a second date?” Gordon asked, pulling away. “I’m free after my radiation screening tomorrow. Although I’m not sure where we could find a romantic spot in an underground research facility.”

“I could c— make us dinner, and then we can take Sunkist on a walk.”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

***

Tommy awoke in the middle of the night to a knock on his door. This sudden string of surprise visitors was making him anxious.

It was his father, prim and proper as ever even given the late hour. 

“Hello, Thomas. I am respecting your boundaries and knocking before entering this time.”

Tommy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Uh. Thanks, dad. Come in.”

Sunkist bounded over to greet GMan. Her tail thumped against the floor as he gave her a cautious pat. 

“She is such a...good dog.” He cleared his throat. “My employers have discussed the matter of your current assignment. We think, perhaps, you could be of great use to Anomalous Materials. You will be the new co-supervisor for the department.”

Tommy’s heart leapt. “Why? I mean, thank you—”

“You have a unique background that I believe will add a fresh perspective to the team. You have the hands-on experience. Dr. Coomer and Dr. Bubby have the wisdom that comes with age.”

He thought about the time Bubby got spooked by an errant beep in the server room and Coomer responded by putting his fist through the server casing.

“I...um...th-thanks. I’m, I’m really happy.”

They hugged. 

“You should get some rest,” his father said. “You have a...very exciting day ahead of you tomorrow.”

***

It was the start of a new week. The tram car was packed: Bubby was snoozing on Coomer’s shoulder, who was discussing the finer points of rocket boot construction with Darnold, while Benrey was engrossed in their PSP. Gordon looked back at Tommy.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

Tommy smiled. “I am.”


End file.
